


Not a Lick of Sense

by captainellie



Category: Avengers Grimm (2015)
Genre: F/F, First Time, Vaginal Fisting, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 07:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17076086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainellie/pseuds/captainellie
Summary: Fucking works as good as fighting when it comes to healing Red.





	Not a Lick of Sense

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kototyph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kototyph/gifts).



> One of the few other people who've publicly talked about liking this fandom. I love that.
> 
> Thanks to my beta.

Dawn broke before they finished getting people settled. Iron John’s men turned out to be a great help and far more accommodating than Cinderella expected, considering they’d been trying to kill Red not all that long ago. They followed Rapunzel’s orders, though, with nary a complaint.

There weren’t nearly enough rooms for everyone in Iron John’s territory. Most of the former thralls were crowded eight or ten to a room and even more made pallets on the floor in the main part of a warehouse.

The princesses took the mayor’s old living space. It was ornate, touches of Rumpelstiltskin everywhere. Rapunzel started swinging her hair, knocking things about, vases glittering with gold smashing into shards that scattered across the floor. Red paced across them and ignored the crunch under her boots.

She shed her red cloak and left her bow on a low table. Her bare arms called to Cinderella, and the smooth line of her throat. She was ropey with muscles, her skin marked with scars. Her dark hair was loose around her shoulders.

Cinderella sank down onto the sofa and watched her move. Sleeping Beauty went off to shower. Rapunzel went off to deal with the long, knotted mess of her hair, which could take her a century to untangle.

Red stopped suddenly, in the center of the room. She spun to face Cinderella. Her expression twisted, and when she spoke, her voice was strangled. “Thank you.”

Cinderella leaned against the back of the couch. “You could sound slightly less furious over it,” she said. She flexed her toes in the lush carpet.

“I don’t like owing favors to princesses.”

“Nothing to rule here,” Cinderella told her. “I’m not a princess any longer.”

She barked a laugh. “You don’t know how to be anything but a princess.”

Cinderella raised her eyebrows. “I know how to be a fighter,” she said. Then, with a sly tilt to her tone, she added, “I know how to beat you.”

Red’s mouth dropped open for a long second before she snapped it closed so fast Cinderella heard her teeth click. Cinderella smiled at her, batted her eyelashes. Tilted her chin down just a touch and angled her face toward the light to make her eyes shine. She wore strange new clothes -- comfortable, tight, good for fighting, but strange -- in a world twisted by Rumplestiltskin’s magic, but she knew her own beauty, still, and the power of her smile.

“I wasn’t myself!” Red snapped at last. “I was a thrall. You never would have beaten me if I’d been in control.” Her blood is up, her cheeks flushed, her breath quick.

Cinderella rolled to her feet. “You really believe that,” she said, infusing her tone with amusement. She stepped around the low table holding Red’s bow and curled her fingers. “Come show me.”

She didn’t expect Red’s hesitation. Red touched her hands to her skirts, twitching her fingers against the loose folds. “You’re willing to risk breaking _more_  things in here?” she asked. Then the corner of her mouth curled. “Or are you that desperate to have something to clean?”

Cinderella’s breath caught. Anger sparked through her, followed by amusement. Red thought herself clever and sneaky, but Cinderella saw through her tricks.

She tilted her head, sending her dark hair tumbling down over her shoulder. “Oh sweet little Red Riding Hood,” she teased. “Perhaps you’re waiting for your woodsman to save you.”

The reaction was instantaneous: Red launched herself at Cinderella with an inarticulate cry. Cinderella bared her teeth in a wide smile and braced for impact. Red slammed into her, and Cinderella wrapped her arms around her, letting Red’s momentum carry them down. As they fell, she twisted, pushing off with her legs, and slammed Red’s back hard against the floor.

Red’s shout came out on a gasp of air driven out of her chest. Cinderella moved before she had a chance to catch it back. She shoved her knee between Red’s legs, pushing them open until her thigh came snug against her underwear.

Red gasped and her hands, braced against Cinderella’s chest, twisted until she gripped her shirt. Cinderella gave her a moment to shove her away, to smack her, to tear their bodies apart, but Red only held on tighter, lips parted, eyes wide.

That was enough. Cinderella ducked her head and kissed her. Red’s lips were chapped, but her mouth soft against the kiss, and she raised up into it, whimpering a little when her body moved against Cinderella’s thigh.

Cinderella pulled back before she was ready, but she wanted to leave Red wanting more. Sure enough, Red raised up, chasing the kiss, tugging at Cinderella’s shirt to try to bring them back together.

But Cinderella held firm. She wanted to see Red’s face. She put one hand on the outside of Red’s thigh, right above her knee. With her eyes locked onto Red’s, she ran her hand up, slowly, lifting the skirts as she went until they were bunched around Red’s waist.

Red’s mouth fell open again, lips red and damp, when Cinderella eased her thigh back and slid her hand beneath Red’s underwear. She found Red already slick, the soft, downy hair damp, her folds wet. Red groaned at the lightest brush of Cinderella’s fingers over that tight little nub, already hard. She ran her thumb over it three times and was rewarded with another gush of wetness.

“Dirty girl,” Cinderella teased.

Red panted for air, chest rising and falling fast, but she managed a smirk. “Guess you found something to clean.”

Cinderella thought about pulling away just to teach her a lesson, but the warmth against her fingers was too tempting. She eased herself backward, pushing Red’s thighs farther apart as she did. Red clutched at her shirt until she couldn’t hold on any longer; her fingers fell away reluctantly.

She slammed her hands against the floor a moment later and keened; Cinderella raised her head to smirk, three fingers deep inside Red. There was no resistance when she thrust them in and out, working Red up.

But Red’s underwear was still in her way. Cinderella withdrew her fingers slowly, reluctant, and revelled in Red’s moan at the loss. She hooked her fingers at the edge of Red’s underwear; Red scrambled to get her hips up so they slid down her legs. They caught at her boots, and Cinderella sat back long enough for Red to strip them off. She left her skirts tangled up above her hips.

Cinderella settled between Red’s legs, pushing them even farther apart to give herself room to work. Red was flexible and spread them wide. She leaned back on her elbows, lifting just enough she could watch everything Cinderella did.

First thing, Cinderella slid one finger inside.

“More!” Red demanded, thrusting up. Cinderella jerked her hand away and waited until Red’s hips settled again.

“You’ll take what I give you,” Cinderella told her, tone lilting and sweet. Red dropped her head back with a groan; in that moment, Cinderella ducked in close and ran her tongue along Red’s folds, ending at the sensitive bundle of nerves. She sucked on it, lightly.

Her efforts were rewarded with another shout from Red, a full body shudder nearly knocking Cinderella away. She leaned heavy into Red’s body, holding her down, and circled Red’s clit faster and faster, crossing it in sporadic swipes that left Red panting and trembling.

“More!” Red demanded again. “Come on, Cinderella. I can take it.”

Cinderella raised her head. Her mouth was wet with Red, and she knew Red could see the glisten of it. “I know you can take it,” she said, conversational and polite, as if they sat at a banquet table and not at all sprawled between Red’s legs. “I don’t think you deserve it, though.”

Red’s mouth parted on an indignant cry. “I do!”

“Do you?” Cinderella tilted her head. “I’m not sure. You’re rude,” one finger thrust inside, “and uncouth,” two fingers, “and sarcastic,” three fingers, “and stubborn.” She paused, fingertips just inside, and waited. Red rocked her hips up, but Cinderella held the same position through it.

“Oh,” Red said, moaning. Cinderella spread her fingers apart, pushing against the edges of Red’s opening. “Oh, oh. _Please._ Please, Cinderella. Please.”

That was what she’d been waiting for. Slowly, inexorably, she pushed four fingers inside, just a bit at a time. Red made little mewling noises as Cinderella filled her up. She kept her fingers tucked together at first, then spread them wider the farther in she went. Red was a hot, wet clench around her.

Cinderella lowered herself again, fingers inside up to the third knuckle, and swiped her tongue across Red’s clit. The hood was pulled back, and her clit was swollen with blood. She put her lips around it and sucked, just a little, then pressed her tongue down, hard.

Red’s hands slammed against the floor and she keened, voice cracking as it tore out of her. Her inner walls convulsed around Cinderella’s fingers and fresh, slick warmth flooded her palm.

Cinderella lifted her head, breath unsteady. “Do you deserve more?” she asked. “Really?”

“Yes,” Red chanted. “Yes, yes, please, yes.”

Cinderella lowered her head again and put her mouth against Red’s quim, tongue to clit, warmth and suction and quick strokes. Red’s body shook harder and harder, her noises caught in her throat, and she convulsed again, everything clamping down on Cinderella.

That was what she’d been waiting for. She pulled her fingers back until just the tips remained, curled her thumb against her palm, and pushed forward, steady. She kept her tongue on Red’s clit.

Red’s voice broke into noisy gasps as the widest part of Cinderella’s hand caught against her opening. There was resistance, but she was wet and warm and ready. Cinderella pushed into it until Red’s body gave way and her entire fist slid inside.

The biggest orgasm yet shook through Red, shattering her. She gushed around Cinderella’s hand, coated her tongue, dripped down her chin. Cinderella licked her through it, twisted her fist inside, pressing into different spots that made Red quiver.

It went on for long minutes. Cinderella worked hard to drag it out, wanted Red a wet, shaking mess under her mouth and around her hand. Red’s thighs rocked in and out, slamming into Cinderella’s sides then opening again, and her hands beat sporadic at the floor.

Finally, the tension started to run out of her. Cinderella licked her through that, too, longer, slower swipes of her tongue across Red’s clit. Red’s inner walls fluttered around Cinderella’s hand, but Cinderella kept it pushed deep inside until Red slumped, boneless, all the strength drained from her body.

Cinderella licked her more, light, kitten licks that caught the taste of her, until she wasn’t quite so messy. When she pulled her hand out, slow, fingers tight together to make it as easy as possible, she brought a gush of liquid with her, her entire hand coated.

She sat up, brought her legs under her. Waited until Red squinted open her eyes. Licked her fingers clean, careful, thorough, until she’d caught every last drop.

By the time she was done, Red’s breathing had slowed again but her entire face was flushed.

“All clean,” Cinderella said, and smiled.

“You--” Red had to take a breath. “You missed a spot.”

“Oh?” Cinderella raised her eyebrows.

Red sat up, though it was a struggle and she had to brace herself twice. Pride swelled in Cinderella; she’d taken the warrior apart and turned her into a shaking, satiated, satisfied mess of a woman.

“Yes.” Red caught her shoulder and tugged her closer. Cinderella rose up onto her knees to make it less awkward. Red kissed her, a quick brush of their lips, then kissed the side of her mouth. Her tongue touched Cinderella’s skin there, then a spot just above, a spot below. Red worked her mouth and tongue across Cinderella’s lips, the corners of her mouth, across her tongue, until finally she sat back. “There. That’s clean.”

Cinderella put her hand on the back of Red’s neck and drew her in, kissed her properly, long and hard, teeth against lips and plenty of tongue.

“I don’t like owing favors to princesses,” Red said once they’d pulled apart and caught their breaths.

Cinderella laughed. “No princesses here.”

“I don’t like owing you a favor, then.” But she smiled as she said it, teeth visible behind her red, red lips, eyes big and bright.

“What a big mouth you have,” Cinderella told her.

Red crawled over her, pushing her back as she went. “All the better to eat you with.”

Cinderella cackled until Red kissed her laughter away.


End file.
